This week marks a milestone in our little family. My youngest child is getting ready to transition from the crib to a big boy bed. The bed arrives tomorrow, the mattresses arrive on Friday. We have sheets, pillow, blankets, everything we need.
This particular crib we have been using has had quite a journey in life. We purchased this crib over 6 years ago in anticipation of our first child's birth. We didn't actually use it until Allison was 4 months old, and it has been in near constant use since then. She slept in it until she was almost 3, and then we moved her into a big girl bed just in time for her brother to arrive. About a month went by when it wasn't being used in between children.
Allison's baby brother is now approaching his third birthday. He is growing too tall for the crib, even at the lowest mattress setting. He is showing an incredible interest in the rest of our beds. He makes up beds on the floor for his stuffed animals. He turns pillowcases into sleeping bags and pretends to sleep on the floor. His every move seems to say to us,like a well fed, sleepy Oliver Twist, "Please guys, I want a bed."
So, we have gotten him a bed. He may be ready, but I am not sure I am. The crib has a certain security to me. I can put him in it at night and know that when I wake up in the morning, he will still be where I left him. I am not ready for 'free range' baby yet. When his sister first left the crib, I used to wake up in the middle of the night to find her climbing into bed with me. I am dreading the return of those days.
Plus, the crib is almost like a member of the family now. It has lived with us and cared for our children at night for almost half a decade. I thought about giving it to another family, but a bolt is starting to fall out of one side. So, to the dump it goes.
Wish me luck. Wish Trevor luck. He should be a free-range chicken by Friday night. And I should, once again, be a tired, sleep deprived mommy by Saturday morning. Oh the joys of childhood.